


the first love gets you bad (don’t it)

by borrowedtime



Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Canon Compliant ish, F/F, Fix It, Kinda, Therapy! Everyone gets therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedtime/pseuds/borrowedtime
Summary: It gets worse before it gets better.(Beth & Addy after everything).
Relationships: Beth Cassidy/Addy Hanlon, one sided Addy Hanlon/Colette French
Comments: 16
Kudos: 183





	the first love gets you bad (don’t it)

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh idk what this is but I wanted to write these poor teenagers healing from their fucking wounds. It expanded into this. I have not read the book but did google it to prep for this

The air is cold. Addy breathes it in and feels the ice fill her lungs. It’s as if the weather knows exactly what’s going on inside her mind. That panic that fills her veins, that dread sitting within the lining of her stomach, the ache of loneliness clamping up her throat. The cold suits, it gives her something else to focus on. It’s coincidence, really she knows that, and merely superstition. Still, it’s comforting—to think that something out there is paying attention to what’s happening to her. 

She’s running, feeling hitting the road and pavement as she paces her neighbourhood. She’s always running, to someone and from someone else. She’s not so dense as to not realise who she’s running from. The vipers nest that is cheerleading has always been of some comfort to her, when she had protection. Now she worries about the gossip, the bullying, the power dynamics. Things like that are always worse when you’re the one attention is directed at. She can’t be sure, either, that Beth won’t allow the girls to ridicule her now that everything has fallen apart. Vipers are a whole lot less appealing when you don’t have any kind of protection, or antidote. 

Beth was her antidote. Ironic when you consider that Beth was always a viper herself. The poison and the cure. That’s what Coach would say. Don’t let anyone have control over you, don’t let me both cause and soothe the pain. Ironic, is what Addy would say if she had a clear enough head to do any sort of critical thinking. Instead, she just runs. Past the houses, past the parks, right in a direction she refuses to acknowledge that she’s travelling. 

it’s not until she finds herself in front of Beth’s house for the third time that she lets herself stop. Panting, freezing and heart pounding, she watches the lights in Beth’s house flicker. Her mum is still awake, no doubt. Lana always kept odd hours—sleeping in the middle of the day, pottering around the kitchen at night—which meant that Beth and Addy never needed to operate with any secrecy. Lana wouldn’t have the clear mindedness to notice anything, even if Beth declared her love for Addy right in front of her. 

Of course, Beth might as well as. She never actually said it, but Addy knows. What does she have that I don’t? It’s not a typical Beth question. It’s not even a drunk Beth question. It was desperate. Beth is never desperate, not like that. She holds information inside her, letting it fester within her like a bruise changing colours. Then, just as it reaches its blackest, she releases the information into the world. Lets it cause as much damage as it caused her. She’s always been that way, except with Addy. The damage never hit Addy. Well, it never used to. Now, Addy is certain all bets are off. Addy did not choose Beth, now she gets to suffer the consequences. 

That’s what Coach would say. Beth always like doling out the consequences, but she’s not the only one with ambition. Addy, she’s only the leader because you let her be. 

Coach wasn’t wrong, not really. Addy was happy being lieutenant. Until Coach pointed out that it wasn’t all Addy was built for. 

Addy watches Beth’s bedroom light flicker on. Her breath hitches in her throat. Does Beth know that she’s out there? Watching, waiting? Does Beth really know everything? Addy feels a chill slide down her back. Beth can’t know she’s won—that Addy is out here, pathetic as always, searching for her Captain’s approval. 

The light turns off and Addy is left with half a breath still stuck in her throat. It’s odd, the disappointment she feels as she’s swathed in darkness. The habits are hard to break, that dependence on Beth and her approval. She lived for it, once. Now, she lives for someone else’s. 

Or maybe she did. Beth could be right. Coach could sell her up the river at the slightest opportunity, potential and specialness be damned. Coach could keep her fancy house, her fancy husband and her darling daughter. She could say that it was all, somehow, Addy’s idea. A jilted lover, a scorned student, deciding to get rid of the competition. Something like that, anyway. Addy doesn’t know enough about the events of the night to contradict her. 

Remember, always wear a mask. If you’re going to take it off, make sure you have another one on underneath. 

Maybe Coach was wearing more masks than Addy would let herself believe. Still, Addy can’t imagine the possibility of Coach selling her out, letting her swim out in the depths, letting her drown. Surely, Coach wouldn’t do that. Surely, they had—have—something special. Surely. 

The month drags by thereafter. Kurtz is let out, after a while. Once he demonstrates that he did not have anything on Will, nothing to prompt him to murder. Besides, the police couldn’t find any evidence that he was there that night—even though he did not have a solid alibi. They held him for 48 hours and then released. The whole town circled back to rumours and suspicion then. If even the cops couldn’t charge Kurtz, then who really did it?

Beth is the first subject of suspicion, at least for a little while and only amongst the cheerleaders themselves. They all thought she had too much of an interest in Will, but no one has any facts to back up their rumours. Random whispers can only last for so long. Addy herself was passed under the microscope for a moment, too, but Ri herself waves away the suspicions with a charming smile. Says that Addy would never have the balls to do something so direct, not without direction. It’s insulting, but Addy doesn’t want to disagree. 

So instead, rumours swirl about the adults. Specifically, Coach. Beth leads them to that conclusion, she was always going to. Something about the potential for an affair. The squad don’t have facts for that assertion, either, but they’re always looking for reason to distrust Coach. They latch onto it like leeches and it makes Addy feel sick. 

Beth gives her a look the minute she notices Addy’s facial expression. It’s during one of the squad’s little gossip sessions in the locker room. She gives Addy an acidic smile and flicks her on the arm. 

‘Lighten up, Hanlon.’ She says. ‘It’s not like you’re in any danger.’ 

So, Addy does the only thing she knows how to do when she’s panicked. She tries to visit Coach. She runs to her house in the middle of the goddamn night and knocks. No one answers. Of course, no one answers. So she sends Coach a text. Nothing fancy. 

No response comes. So she sends another one. It’s familiar pattern, the give and go. The way that Addy gives and asks and never receives. It’s comforting, almost, to think that she can now recognize what Coach is going to do before she does it. But she won’t let Addy fall, not like that. Not onto the sword of her own making. 

Right?  
———

Her mother always said that the truth will out, regardless of the circumstances. A law enforcer to the bone, she believed that the world would let justice work itself out in the smaller ways, if not in the bigger. 

It doesn’t happen immediately. But Coach and Mr. French get called in for questioning one day. The town is abuzz. Beth is practically frothing at the mouth during practice, appointing herself their interim leader yet again. They train hard and they finish with the pyramid. It feels almost as it did before Coach was on the scene, barring the fact that Beth won’t look at Addy. 

It all feels normal until Beth slips with only half a second to go before she’ll fall back into her squad’s arms. She pitches off to her left and falls, hard, on the gymnasium floor. 

‘Beth.’ Addy gasps. ‘Beth!’

Beth is on the ground below her, wind knocked out of her lungs and eyes glassy. She’s just fallen right off the top of her own pyramid. That hasn’t happened since they were twelve; the falling, any injury. Beth was always the best of them, until she wasn’t. Until, apparently, right now. 

Beth gives her a cold smile, when she actually comes to. ‘Wow, Hanlon. I didn’t know you still cared.’ 

It stings. Of course, it stings. Beth always had a way of sliding insults right between Addy’s ribs and twisting until she bled. She always knew the salve, too, to be fair. The right thing to say to stitch the wound back together. 

Addy pasted a smile on her face. ‘Of course I care.’ 

It’s a show, they both know that. The other girls don’t know, or not yet anyway, that they’re on the outs. Ri will know, she always knew more than either Beth or Addy liked to admit, but she won’t say anything. 

Coach comes over, calm. A picture of control. Back from questioning. ‘You alright Cassidy?’ 

Beth lifts a hand in the air. ‘Fine.’ 

The way she gets up says otherwise. It’s her shoulder again. Possibly her knee, too. The girls share a concerned look—who exactly will top the pyramid at States if their top girl is down and out—but they don’t contradict Beth’s statement. They know better than that. Coach may be their superior, their authority figure, but she isn’t from here. Not like Beth. Beth is one of them in a way that Coach will never be. Even Addy knows that, though it makes her uncomfortable. 

Practice finishes shortly thereafter. Coach sees the strain the girl’s faces, rolls her eyes and tell them (more or less) to fuck off. They walk off as quickly as their tired muscles will allow. Addy hangs back, just a second, to catch sight of Beth’s posture. She’s limping, clearly in pain, but she gives a sardonic smile to anyone who looks at her too closely. 

She catches Addy staring, then. ‘Can I help you?’ 

Addy’s eyes skim Beth’s neck as she turns to look at her. Addy feels a thrum of unwanted desire. The smooth skin there had once represented so much to Addy. A place of comfort and a place of intimacy. A place no one else could ever come close to. Now, it’s a place she can’t go. Coach had said that distance would be good for her, but she never said that it wouldn’t hurt. 

‘Nothing.’ Addy says. ‘Just don’t want you eating mat again before you get to the locker room.’ 

Beth scoffs. ‘I’m fine.’ 

‘Tell that to your bruises in the morning.’ 

A shadowy and wounded look comes over Beth’s face. ‘Don’t. You don’t get to do that anymore.’ 

Addy can hardly help the shocked look that comes over her face. ‘You act like I don’t care about you.’ 

‘You don’t.’ Beth snaps. ‘You made that perfectly clear.’ 

Addy can’t muster a reply before Beth limps away from her and into the locker room. Addy doesn’t have the heart or the energy to stop her. She tries to catch Coach’s eye, to read how the questioning went, to find French will her back to Addy. For not the first time.  
——

Both Coach and Mr. French go to jail. Not jail, directly, but they’re charged. Addy escapes any sort of punishment (but not criticism) because her mother pleads for her to tell them how she was manipulated. Addy can’t bring herself to believe it, that what her and Coach had was just some cheap trick to turn Addy into a scapegoat for the French’s own crimes of passion. Still, she never finds out why Coach called her that night. Coach doesn’t tell her. That helps, to think that there may have been another reason for Coach to contact her; besides comfort. 

So, she isn’t put in jail. Her mother has a good handle on things and doesn’t let her panic show, but the fact that her daughter was almost arrested is not lost on her. Rules are stricter and suspicions are higher, but Addy can hardly blame her. Still, Abby gets the opportunity to sneak out every so often. 

When Addy knocks on Beth’s door, Beth lets Addy into the lounge room den without so much as looking back at her. It’s not until Beth is settled on the couch that Addy feels compelled to break the silence, giving a passing glance to Beth’s casual outfit of hoodie and tracksuit pants. 

‘You were right.’ Addy says. 

Beth raises her eyebrows. ‘Yeah, I fucking know that.’ 

‘I’m serious, Beth.’ 

‘How convenient for you, Hanlon. About time you woke the fuck up.’ 

‘Beth.’ Addy pleads, whines almost. ‘I’m sorry. Okay? Is that what you want to hear?’ 

‘No.’ Beth scoffs. ‘That’s what I wanted to hear three months ago. Now, I don’t give a shit what you say. You chose your side.’ 

‘My side? Beth, she tricked me. You were right, she didn’t have my back.’ 

‘Fucking duh, Addy. I don’t know why you’ve come crying to me about it. You’re complaining about the taste of dirt in your mouth after missing the jump and eating grass.’ 

Addy struggles against the feeling of absolute hopelessness that blooms in her chest. That chasm that tells her she’s lost everything she could depend on. Coach, Beth, her mum. She breathes through it and weighs her options. 

‘Beth.’ She says. ‘I’ll do anything. I mean it. I’ll prove that I’m really sorry. What do you want?’ 

The instant the question is out of her mouth, Addy knows she’s said the wrong thing. Beth turns to her, surprised and elated at this opportunity. 

‘Anything?’ She goads. 

Addy swallows. ‘Yeah.’ 

Beth toys with the strings off her hoodie as if they both don’t already know exactly where this is headed. She’s in for several rounds of humiliation, if not months of it. Beth will not let this go, this betrayal, until she feels Addy has properly atoned for her sins. For not trusting Beth at her word, for not choosing her. Addy can’t blame her, not with her family and background trauma, but this will be hard for Addy to get through. 

Beth looks at Addy with a piercing kind of anger. It’s been a long time since she’s seen that look on Beth’s face. It’s usually reserved for her Dad at the worst moments. It’s terrifying to look at, considering most looks that Addy gets from Beth is undercut with a certain tenderness. 

‘Knees.’ Beth says. It’s neither sharp nor loud, but it might as well be. 

Addy drops immediately. She did say anything, after all. 

Beth stands up and makes her way leisurely over. She’s still toying with her hoodie strings. Still looking like she’s not about to humiliate the hell out of Addy. It reminds Addy of middle school, when she felt like she knew Beth the least. At the time, she blamed their hormones and their need for approval. Growing up and growing pains, all of that. 

This is where they sit best, anyway, in the blurred lines between friends and something else. They’ve always been something else, but neither of them have tried to define it. Addy is too scared and she thinks that Beth might be too casual about it. She’s always wanted Addy to herself, a possessiveness RiRi herself had taken issue with, but they’d never quite gotten around to addressing why. 

‘Do you love me?’ Beth’s tone is not vulnerable, if anything it is cool and sardonic. 

‘Beth.’ Addy warns. 

Beth gives her a scathing look. ‘You said anything.’ 

‘I didn’t mean this.’

Beth rolls her eyes. ‘Sorry. I guess I didn’t realize that you came here with invisible rules.’ 

‘You can punish me, fine, but don’t do that. We don’t do that anymore.’ 

Beth lowers herself down into a squat to meet Addy’s eyes. Her voice comes out in a whisper. 

‘I want you.’ She pauses. ‘To prove that you’re really back on my side.’ 

‘I said I was.’

‘Said. Doesn’t. Count.’ Beth murmurs, a teasing smile on the edge of her lips. ‘Do you love me?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Addy says, not looking at Beth. ‘You know I do.’ 

‘More than her?’ Beth shifts on her feet to maintain her balance. 

‘Beth.’ 

‘Addy.’ Beth snaps. ‘You said anything.’ 

It’s been so long that Addy has almost forgotten this. The neediness of Beth, in their private moments. All bravado blown away. The acid and the anger is always still there, in the background waiting, but Beth’s need tends to overtake all of that. The vulnerability of it all is almost too much for Addy to handle. 

‘Tell me.’ Beth whispers, perhaps to avoid whining. ‘Tell me, Hanlon.’ 

Addy takes a shuddering breath. ‘You know I can’t.’ 

Beth gets up then, paces to put some distance between them. ‘Then I don’t know why the fuck you’re here.’ 

‘I’m choosing you!’ Addy says, as she herself gets up. 

‘No.’ Beth bares her teeth in an angry smile. ‘You’re coming back to me because I’m the only fucking one left.’ 

Addy leaves after that. It gets worse before it gets better. 

Addy knows that Beth is aware she can’t quite think of Coach in any negative way at all. She’s brings it up sometimes, to start a fight. The infallible Coach French rotting away in jail, after chasing jailbait. Addy continues to tell her that nothing physical happened, but Beth doesn’t want to hear it. She wants to drive the news that Coach never had her best interests at heart directly into her eardrums until it seeps into Addy’s brain. It’s a miracle either of them last till college. 

It’s because of this—this guilt—that her mother suggests therapy. Addy is vehemently opposed, because it implies that something is wrong with her (that something was wrong with her and Coach). It takes three whole months for Addy to agree to it. She only does it because this loneliness eats her up and maybe a therapist could tell her that nothing really was wrong with her and Coach. Maybe then she could tell her mother, and tell Beth, that she was right all along to think nothing of her relationship with Coach. 

She has most of her therapy in the summer between high school and college. Her mother said something about starting afresh, but Addy wonders if her mother is worried about all of this following her to a new campus and a new squad. 

Beth and her still aren’t really speaking. Sometimes they hang out, with the squad. A final last hurrah before they all go their separate ways. At least for a while. Their relationships are not yet severed by finding out who has and hasn’t gotten cheer scholarships to the top colleges. Beth has not competed since her injury, but Addy has been close enough to ask her exactly why. 

They drink and they laugh, but it isn’t the same. Beth doesn’t look at her with the same emphasis anymore. Addy doesn’t know how to apologize, properly, so she doesn’t say anything. Beth isn’t waiting for her to be ready to speak about everything regardless, it seems that Beth is moving on without needing Addy at all. It stings worse than an insult. 

One particular night, they drink far more than they should, in a parking lot sitting in front of an abandoned building. The squad is playing obnoxious music and it is glorious. Addy feels herself finally let go again, without the fear of spilling her darkest secrets to whoever would listen. She’s drunk and she’s actually happy for the first time months. It feels so freeing that she finds Beth’s gaze and gives her a wide and true smile. Fuck everything else that happened, that’s her girl. 

Beth is dancing with RiRi. Addy is dancing on her own. If she had the clarity of mind, she might say that it was a metaphor for her life at the moment. Beth eyes her, suspicion if only for a moment, before she smiles back. 

‘Drunk, Hanlon?’ She crows. 

Addy skips over the part where she is supposed to reply, eyes wide, and can only think about how much she’d love to kiss Beth right fucking now. She lets the feeling settled into stomach and she’s about to move forward to do just that, when Beth’s expression changes from jovial to stone. Addy’s desire must show on her face, because Beth take a full step away from her and dances RiRi in the other direction. 

Addy feels the crushing weight of disappointment and drinks more vodka in an attempt to forget about it. 

It’s not just the desire that frustrates Addy, it’s the loneliness. It seems that Beth won their friends in the divorce. It’s a divorce, too, that has since gone public. Their final year of high school ends in a way that Addy would never have imagined when the year started. Separate.

They open their acceptance letters completely seperate. Addy has to find out from RiRi that Beth didn’t apply for any cheerleading scholarships, that she probably will never cheer again, but still got into the University of Delaware. It makes Addy almost gasp audibly to find out that Beth and her got into the same University without even consulting each other. It feels like fate.

She doesn’t say anything to Beth about it. For all she knows, if she mentions it Beth will reject Delaware’s offer and go with her second choice. Abby wouldn’t put it past her. 

On the last week of summer, before college starts in earnest, her mother offers to drive her up to UD to get settled. Addy accepts the offer, because her mum has started with the shifty eyes and watchfulness again. She seems to think that moving will have an adverse effect on Addy, make her easy to manipulate. It’s a miracle she’s even letting Addy go to Delaware. 

Addy settles into her dorm a week before other students, if the empty bed across the room is anything to go by. She doesn’t mind, really. She’d rather feel prepared, especially if she’s going to be joining college cheer. She’ll spend the week familiarising herself with the facilities and equipment so that come first practice she doesn’t make a complete idiot of herself. She’s planning on working her way up to Captain and she can’t do that if she doesn’t have the confidence of the squad. 

Her roommate does arrive, eventually. Addy just about spits out the protein shake she’s drinking when she sees Beth’s bag on the vacant dorm bed. She takes a few minutes to regain her composure, snoops a little at Beth’s things (never touching, only looking). She sees enough information to gather that Beth is taking a Bachelor of Communications. No cheer. 

It still feels too big to be a coincidence, but lately Addy isn’t in the mood of tempting fate. She never asks how the hell Beth ends up being her roommate and Beth never tells her. She just gives her a snarky smile whenever she catches Addy staring for too long. It feels almost, almost like progress. Even if they didn’t speak for the later half of their final high school year.

Eventually they do run into each other. Addy has just come back from cheer practice, exhausted and sweaty, and she sees Beth sitting on the floor sorting some papers. Beth looks up at Addy the instant the door opens. 

‘Hey, you.’ Beth says, as if it’s of no consequence that they’re roommates. ‘I was wondering when this would happen.’ 

‘Hi.’ Addy says, almost shyly. ‘Just got back from cheer practice.’

‘Ooh. Good team?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Addy grins. ‘Pretty good.’ 

‘Better get that Captain spot, Hanlon.’ Beth orders, still looking down at her papers. ‘Represent our team.’ 

‘Our?’ Addy teases and then catches her breath. Is it a step too far? 

Beth gives her a smirk. ‘I have some school pride, Hanlon.’

Beth seems better. It’s odd to say, considering she can’t do the one thing that seemed to bring her joy. Addy wonders if it’s because Beth herself is attending therapy, properly this time. Addy doesn’t want to cross lines and outright ask, so she doesn’t mention it. Still, Beth seems to lack the vitriol of their high school days. Maybe it’s because she’s far away from her family. Maybe it’s because—just maybe—she’s forgiven Addy.

They settle into a good routine. They’re not often in their dorm at the same time, but they’re courteous when they are. As if they’re actual acquaintances and not ex-best friends or almost girlfriends. Addy tries not to cross boundaries that she desperately wishes she could, and Beth does not ask any needy questions under the cover of right. Addy misses it—the closeness—and reprimands herself for thinking that way. She brought it on herself, after all.

She makes friends with the squad soon enough. It feels like moving, even if Coach’s advice still whispers in the back of her mind whenever she’s at cheer practice. 

Beth comes to her practices sometimes. She sits up high on the bleachers and watches the squad cheer their way through another drill. Addy is not top girl, not yet, but the way the squad is talking she won’t be far off come the end of her semester. Addy longs to ask if it hurts, to see cheer but to not be able to participate, but she worries too much about it being the wrong question to ever get around to actually asking. She still feels like she’s only one mistake away from losing Beth, in her weakest moments. 

Beth hasn’t given her any indication that that is actually the case, but Addy feels it still. The gentleness of Beth’s looks has returned—maybe it’s something about college and a fresh start. She’s still sarcastic and cutting, like always, but she seems to have finally lowered her walls a little. It almost feels like they’re back at where they started before Coach was on the scene. 

Maybe they’re better for it. Rebuilt. That’s what the college therapist says, when Addy goes to visit her once a fortnight. Addy is still stuck on the concept of them being blurred lines between friends and something else, still. Her therapist has told her to take a chance, explain in plain terms to Beth how she feels about her. Addy hasn’t been able to manage it yet. She’s not sure she ever will. 

They still get drunk together and move far closer than they should. They share Beth’s bed more and more often, snuggled up in the cold of winter. Beth almost kisses her, once, in the dead of night. She backs out at the last second and Addy can’t move forward to close the gap. The moment passes and Addy spends a week regretting it. She’s getting over Coach and everything she taught her, but she cannot handle if she opens up to Beth to be rejected. She can’t tell if they’ve fallen back on the side of friendship and missed her chance. 

Beth dates, men and the occasional woman. Addy doesn’t and she tells herself that it’s because she doesn’t have time. Not in between cheer and studying. Beth seems to believe her, because she doesn’t give her shit for it. In fact, it’s one of the few things that Beth doesn’t give her shit for. It’s a good year. Addy is Captain by the end of it. 

Addy’s therapy helps, not that she’d ever admit it. She un-works most of the damage from Coach and Beth. She gets stuck on a moment, though, and has to ask her therapist for clarification one evening. 

‘You said that I worked out the balance between Beth and me.’ Addy says. ‘That we don’t have power dynamics anymore. So, why is it that I still want to do what she says? Isn’t it just like Coach and me?’ 

‘Have you considered—‘ Her therapist pauses, taps her pen on her notebook. ‘That maybe you want to?’

‘Want to what?’ 

‘Do what Beth says. Not because there’s a power imbalance or because there’s toxicity there. Maybe you want to do what Beth says, simply because you want to.’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

Her therapist shrugs. ‘It’s not uncommon in relationships. When one needs to feel control and the other one wants to be controlled. Sometimes, people feel that dynamic more intensely. You’re both adults now, the dynamic hasn’t changed a lot. That’s uncommon.’ 

‘You mean—‘ 

‘Yeah. I do.’ 

Addy shakes her head. ‘We’re not even together. Like that. Or at all.’ 

‘I know. But I think that it’s important that you acknowledge within yourself that that feeling is there. It might help you work out a few things.’ 

The conversation sits with Addy for weeks. Every time she sees Beth walk into their living room, the conversation jumps back to the forefront of her mind. She knows that this dynamic feels natural to them, it always has. The push and pull. It felt natural and, most of the time, equal. Addy wasn’t Beth’s second in command because second was the highest position she could rise to. She was second because she wanted to be. 

Addy finds herself sitting on her bed, when Beth walks into the room. She’s drying her hair on a towel, having just come back from the shared dorm bathroom. She takes one look at Addy’s introspective face and pauses. 

‘What the fuck’s up with you, Hanlon?’ 

Addy starts, trying to school her facial expression. ‘Nothing. I was just—thinking.’ 

‘Sounds dangerous.’ Beth smirks. ‘You okay?’ 

These check ins are not uncommon, but Addy treasures them every time. 

‘Yeah.’ Addy nods. ‘Fine.’ 

Beth walks across the room and hangs her towel off the back Addy’s desk chair—an act that she knows will piss off Addy to no end. Addy is too distracted to notice, though. 

‘Beth.’ She says, then regrets it. 

‘Hm?’ Beth faces her, then, pretends like she can’t read Addy’s exact expression. 

‘I—I was talking to my therapist today.’ 

‘Good for you.’ Beth snipes, with a little smile. ‘You wanna get to the point? I have a class in a half hour.’

Addy inhales. ‘She told me that our—our friendship is different to my—to what I had with Coach. She said sometimes it’s natural.’ 

‘What’s natural? Two friends who kiss sometimes?’ 

‘The dynamic. You give orders. I take them.’ 

Beth rolls her eyes. ‘You make me sound like a fucking soldier.’ 

‘I mean—I’m trying to say that I like it. It feels—I think it comforts me.’ 

Beth pauses then. ‘Your therapist didn’t tell you I was a controlling bitch?’ 

‘No. She told me that it might be worth acknowledging that I like it, that it’s not toxic for us to be like that. If there’s boundaries.’ 

‘Addy. What are you trying to say? We’re not—‘ 

‘I love you.’ Addy sighs, doesn’t look anywhere near Beth. ‘You know that. I couldn’t imagine myself without you. I can’t be bothered pretending like it doesn’t matter anymore.’ 

Beth sits down opposite Addy. ‘What are you asking for?’ 

‘A relationship.’ Addy admits. ‘I think.’ 

‘You think? Don’t sound so fucking sure.’

‘I’m still—I do. Want a relationship with you. I have for a really long time. I just lost my way.’ 

‘You were manipulated. It’s not quite the same.’ 

Addy pauses, then. It’s one of the most mature things she’s heard Beth say ever. 

‘Yeah, well.’ Addy shifts. ‘What do you think?’ 

Beth laughs. ‘God, this was so fucking droll. I have to get to class. Find a more creative way to ask me to be your girlfriend when I get back.’ 

It’s such a Beth thing to do that Addy finds herself smiling as Beth walks out the door. Challenge accepted. 

They attend a few parties together as girlfriends, officially. No one on Addy’s squad is especially surprised, but they congratulate her anyway. They don’t wanna be seen as icing out or teasing their Captain in a way that takes it too far. 

Beth and her drink and dance and kiss, all in public. It feels right. It feels good. It feels so much like coming home that Addy has to keep herself from bursting into tears. On her worst days, she thought she’d never get this back. Never get to feel this way again. On her best days, she thought Beth and her would remain cordial friends. Not this, not this connection again. 

Beth seems to sense Addy’s discomfort, she always has. But instead of what she might have done in high school, pushed Addy’s buttons and made her itch with irritation, she hands her another drink and kisses her neck gently. Addy giggles, and they dance the night away.  
———

‘So.’ Beth says, one day. ‘What exactly did your therapist tell you about our dynamic?’ 

Addy is currently curled up against Beth in the dorm beds that they’ve pushed together. Her head is nestled against Beth’s neck, while Beth plays idly with her hair. It’s more than a little distracting. 

‘What?’ Addy asks. ‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I’ve been doing some reading.’ Beth’s breath hitches. ‘Some research, if you wanna call it that. About things we could try.’ 

‘Things like?’ 

Beth snorts out a laughter. ‘Sex things, Adelaide. Jesus.’ 

Addy sits up, mostly to watch Beth’s eyes sparkle. ‘What kind of things?’ 

‘You’re really gonna make me say it.’ 

Addy sighs, pretends to be annoyed. ‘We need to communicate properly if this is going to work.’ 

‘Fine.’ Beth smirks. ‘You heard of BDSM?’ 

Addy tries not to flush with embarrassment. ‘Yeah. A little.’ 

Beth runs a finger across Addy’s collarbone. ‘No need to pretend to be embarrassed, Hanlon.’ 

‘I’m not pretending.’ 

‘Oh, my girl’s a prude.’ 

‘Fuck off.’ Addy laughs. She settles back down next to Beth. 

‘We should talk about what we’re comfortable with. Our boundaries. Things we will do. A Yes, Maybe, No list.’ Beth continues. ‘You know what that is, baby?’ 

Addy pokes her in the side for her condescension. ‘Yes. I do know some things.’ 

‘You wanna try it?’ 

Addy grins into Beth’s neck. ‘Yeah. I think I do.’ 

It feels like the next step. It feels right. For the first time in a while, Addy feels completely and utterly safe.  
———

Sometimes, Addy wakes in the middle of the night with the image of Coach French burned into her brain. That sickly sweet smile and those calculating eyes. The brief touches on her wrist, brushing her hands gently and then pulling away. Sometimes, Addy wakes up from these dreams (she refuses to call them nightmares though that is probably what they are) to see Beth staring at her. 

The expression on her girlfriend’s face is one of such gentle love that Addy doesn’t know what to do with herself. This was never their game, actual feeling and real consequences. They never dealt in real and unadulterated, naked tenderness. Not unless one of them was drunk. That was the way they worked, within the implications and the innuendo. 

So Addy laughs, nervous. ‘What?’ 

Beth shifts in their blanket. ‘Nothing. Just looking.’ 

‘At what?’ 

‘You.’ Beth sits up. ‘Always you. You’re my girl.’ 

Addy scoffs, but without any real meaning. ‘Yours? How possessive.’ 

Beth allows a small smile to grace her face. ‘Yeah. That’s right.’ 

It’s said without her usual bravado so Addy lets go of her nervousness and uncertainty. She gives Beth a real smile back. 

‘Okay.’ She allows. ‘I—‘ 

‘Had a dream. I know.’ Beth sighs and relaxes against the pillows. ‘You murmur.’ 

Addy’s spine goes rigid. ‘Her name?’

Beth isn’t looking at her now. ‘Mm.’ 

‘Oh.’ 

‘It’s fine. I get it. Dreams are a way of processing.’ 

There’s no venom in it. Addy is suddenly struck by how much progress Beth had made. Their high school selves might have fought about this. Beth might have concocted several ways to punish Addy later, in public or in private. But she is comforted by the immediate feeling that Beth actually means it. She really does, maybe she always did. 

‘I love you.’ Addy whispers. The thrum is her heart drowns out any reply from Beth. 

Beth reaches across the bed and grabs Addy’s hand, holds it close. A new bracelet, more expensive and with silver charms, hangs from Beth’s wrist. Addy’s matching one hangs from her own wrist. 

Maybe they’ll be alright, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts & vibes appreciated


End file.
